


DYING IN LA

by jamesmarchant (orphan_account)



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Fake Chop, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, kinda emo kinda fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 02:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15014567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jamesmarchant
Summary: you looked at death in a tarot cardand you saw what you had to do





	DYING IN LA

**Author's Note:**

> ello ello, long time no see! the chaos of graduating high school is over and im on summer vacation now, so im hoping to getting back into writing on a regular basis :D  
> hope you enjoy

The pier was never quiet.

Even at dusk, the final rays of the sun cutting over the horizon had to skip through the crowds of people eating and running and skateboarding along the sidewalk, or sitting and dancing and swimming in the shallows of the ocean.

Sometimes Aleks hated it, wished that there could be _somewhere_ in all of LA where there wasn’t the constant drone of cars in the distance, of people talking and shouting, of police sirens that he certainly should be used to by now but still make his heart skip, still make instinct whisper that he needs to _run._

Back in Colorado, whether he wanted it or not Aleks would find the quiet. The carefully chosen safe houses tucked into the fold of suburbia provided plenty of times where Aleks could sit outside on the back stoop, smoke a cigarette or some weed surrounded by the silence of the night. Maybe that’s why Aleks could never stop following James around, because once the door closed behind him the quiet took to carving a little hole in his chest and James was always loud enough to fill it back up.

But James isn’t here right now and Aleks’ vision is too blurry to try calling or texting him, so Aleks kept his eyes trained on the slowly dimming mass of light on the horizon, letting the noise of the crowd and the waves fill up the hole in his chest instead.

He doesn’t know where James is, but he hopes he shows up soon, because _his_ noise always made Aleks’ chest feel warm, but _this_ noise made him feel like the ocean wind was blowing right through him, chilling him to the core.

Somewhere in the back of Aleks’ mind a voice nags that he felt cold because of all the blood he was losing, but he ignores it.

Somewhere in the back of Aleks’ mind he knows there's a bullet lodged in his stomach, but he ignores it.

All things considered, the heist could have gone a lot worse. Some of their heists _have_ gone a lot worse, Aleks thinks as he throws his legs over the edge of the wooden pier, settles one hand over the wound on his side and places the other square on the wood for him to lean against.

Aleks isn’t sure how he got to the pier, he just knows that somehow in the push to get _far, far away_ from where the police where opening fire on them, the alleyways he had stumbled through spat him out at the feet of the ocean. A blessing and a curse, really, as the crowds were easy to slip into and fade away in, but if the cops have a hard time finding him then that means James will too.

Slipping into the crowd was a lot harder considering the sharp pain in his stomach keeping him from thinking straight, let alone _walking_ straight, but he figures that sitting at the far edge of the dock tucked away from the reach of the street lights turning on one by one will keep him out of anyone’s mind.

The cops are looking for someone tearing ass with guns blazing blocks away from where Aleks is now, not someone hunched over getting splinters up his ass and only barely keeping himself from falling off the edge.

The thought that the reason James hasn’t found Aleks yet - and James _always_ finds Aleks - could be because he got shot too inches into Aleks’ mind and no amount of ignoring it makes it shut up.

Images of James accompany the thought - handcuffed and bleeding and _angry_ , snarling as he’s pinned against a cop car - or stumbling and falling through an alleyway like Aleks had been, delirious from blood loss until he falls face first onto the concrete and doesn’t get back _up_ \- or, or one well placed shot from one of those pigs catching James and sending him to the ground and he needed _help_ but Aleks didn’t _know_ so he just kept _moving_ until his dumb ass is sat at the pier at sunset all alone.

The anxiety hits Aleks in waves with the images, until it churns more intensely in his gut than the pain. It vibrates in his veins and bounces around in his ribcage and he needs to _move_ but he knows he couldn’t get another ten feet without collapsing.

He doesn’t know when he started staring blankly at his feet hanging a couple meters above the sand, but he’s jolted back into the present when a heavy hand lands on his right shoulder. He jumps, swings around before the motion’s pull on his stomach made him shudder and go still, hissing in pain. The hand stays on him, sliding down to rest between his shoulder blades and rub back and forth a little awkwardly.

Aleks cracks open his eyes, looks up once the pain fades back into something he could ignore, and takes in the familiar beard and doe-eyes and mussed up bun - _James_.

James found him, of _course_ James found him, and there’s blood caking James’ right shoulder and he’s holding his arm stiff, but James is _there_ and _found him_ and isn’t pinned against a cop car or flat on the concrete or forgotten in the chaos, and the anxiety in Aleks’ stomach dissipates like smoke in the wind.

James was still hovering over Aleks, his left hand still pressing against Aleks’ back as he fires off a million and one questions, a note of fear and desperation creeping into his voice, and shit _carries_ on the docks and there are people nearby -

“James, it’s okay, I’m fine, calm down,” Aleks lies, hoping that if he does it well enough James will sit down, and the people across the way won’t notice the blood and decide to bring the cops around after all the effort Aleks put into his distance from any pig.

“Aleks,” James snaps, but Aleks knows the venom isn’t real, it’s just worry and heist energy manifesting itself in James’ patented Loud Voice, “You’ve got a fuckin’ _bullet_ in your stomach, you’re not _fine -”_

“James.” Aleks says, loud enough that James stops. “If you keep freaking out you’re going to catch someone’s attention.” Aleks smiles up at James and gives the wood of the dock next to him an inviting little pat. “Sit with me, for just a little while. It’s a nice night, enjoy the LA scenery with me.”

James goes still, staring at Aleks like he’d grown a second head before he lets out a disbelieving laugh that tapers off into one of the wheezes Aleks loves. But, eventually, he sits, keeping one hand pressed against his shoulder as he scooches to sit with his feet thrown over the edge like Aleks. Once he’s settled he whips around to face Aleks, sending him a comically sour ‘ _what now, genius?’_ look and making him laugh, even if it was weak.  

“Trevor and Brett must be wondering where we are, they’re probably back at the warehouse by now -” James starts, shifting a little and reaching for the pocket where his phone was.

“Let them wonder.” Aleks interrupts, turning back to the ocean.

“Oh, so two idiots with gunshot wounds sitting at the pier are inconspicuous, but one of them texting is suddenly out of place?”

“James,” Aleks says, grinning, because only James could make him want to _giggle_ when there’s a bullet in his stomach, “Shut up and watch the sunset with me for a bit.” _I think one or both of us could be dying right now_ went unspoken between them, but the pain in Aleks’ abdomen and James’ shoulder keeps it at the front of their minds.

That makes James shut his mouth, turn from where he was glaring daggers at Aleks to look out to where the setting sun was painting the sky and ocean a dusty pink.

Aleks feels James take in a deep breath, and Aleks follows the lead as best he could - filling his lungs and stretching his ribs as far as he could before the movement caused too much pain - and they let out a pair of heavy sighs into the cooling air. Aleks shifted a little closer, tilted so he was leaning more into James and less onto his own arm. James accepted it without so much as a glance, and after a moment he felt James’ head come down to rest atop Aleks’ blonde hair.

The pier was never quiet, and Aleks always thought the same rule could apply to James, but here James was, breaking every one of Aleks’ rules like usual.

They sat like that until the sun was completely gone and then a little longer, until everything truly _was_ quiet _,_ just the lapping of the waves and their synchronized breathing.

They sat like that until Brett roared up in the crew’s van and shattered the peace, yelling something about patching up the holes in Aleks’ stomach and James’ shoulder but, Aleks, - still feeling the quiet pressed over his ears like cotton - couldn’t help but think, _no, don’t worry, the hole in my chest is gone now. James patched it up._  

**Author's Note:**

> this lil fic i used to kill two birds with one stone - warming me back up to writing and to complete my end of the deal with @hrtbnr on tumblr!! i asked her for a novahd drawing and here is her payment :’o  
> edit: [HERE'S JACKIE'S WONDERFUL ART PLS GO CHECK IT OUT](https://hrtbnr.tumblr.com/post/175186979778/hey-i-did-a-nice-little-exchange-with)  
> also, maybe it goes without saying but this was inspired by P!ATD’s new song “dying in LA”
> 
> im @jamesmarchant on tumblr, come say hi!  
> hope you enjoyed <3


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